


I Can See Our Days Are Becoming Nights

by lisachan



Series: Leoverse [227]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22739770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Blaine is studying for an Ancient Runes test when Sam comes calling him, begging him to go see Maddox, because, apparently, he's acting weird. Blaine doesn't even imagine how much.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Leoverse [227]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/30541
Collections: COWT - Clash Of the Writing Titans/Chronicles Of Words and Trials





	I Can See Our Days Are Becoming Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Water Is Warm 'Till You Discover How Deep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560948) by [lisachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan). 



> **WARNING:** This story is an **AU** from the original 'verse. What happens in here has little to no correlation with what happens in Leonard Karofsky-Hummel VS The world or Broken Heart Syndrome. The characters involved are (mostly) the same, but situations and relationships between them may be completely different.  
> In this instance of the universe, Leo is a student in a Magic Institute in the same universe as Harry Potter's Hogwarts is. He's in a relationship with his Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, Blaine, whose pupil, Adam, is also his best friend, and he has a complicated relationship with Cody, one of his many admirers. But, more importantly, he's the very son of "Mad" Maddox, a genius wizard gone crazy Blaine locked up into a magical trinket years ago. What Leo doesn't know, beside the fact that Maddox is his father, is that Blaine and Maddox were in a relationship when they were kids and they both attended classes at the Institute.  
> In the previous stories I posted we saw the beginning and continuation of Blaine and Maddox's relationship - now, in this third installment, we witness the moment everything changed.

“Blaine,” Sam says, joining him next to where he’s sitting at an empty desk in the library, “I think you should come see this.”

Blaine pretends to consider her words, but he doesn’t move his eyes away from the book he’s reading. If he wants a chance to pass the Ancient Runes test tomorrow, he’ got to concentrate.

“I think not,” he says then, flipping the page and confronting the numerical runes, “I’m busy.”

“No, believe me,” she insists, walking around the table to face him, “You’ve got to come.”

“What I’ve got to do is stay here and study,” he insists, and then frowns, “And you should do that too. I seem to remember we share the same classes, and we have the same test tomorrow.”

“No, but Blaine,” Sam almost climbs on the table as she leans towards him, crowding his view entirely, “It’s about Maddox.”

Now, Blaine loves Sam. She’s one of his dearest friends (one of the very few friends he has, to be completely honest). She’s talented and fun to be around, she’s nice company and she knows him very well, which makes it easy to talk to her in almost all circumstances and is usually a very pleasant thing.

But it isn’t when she uses the knowledge she has of him to distract him from his studies.

For example, she knows there’s only one thing, one word, one name that can distract him from an intensive study session before a test, and that thing, word, name is Maddox. His nemesis. His rival. His literary antagonist.

Incidentally, the guy he’s got a ridiculous crush on, since they were around fifteen – even before that, if he’s honest with himself, even though he rarely likes to be.

He frowns, putting the book down, telling himself it’s temporary. “What about Maddox?”

“He’s weird.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Come on. He’s _always_ weird.”

“Weirder than he usually is, Blaine!” Sam walks back around the table and sits on the edge of it, distracting him with her movement and taking advantage of this distraction to close the book under his nose. “You must come.”

Blaine sighs deeply and then growls a little, standing up. “I swear, Sam, if this is some kind of a joke...”

“Why would I even joke about this?!”

“I don’t know,” he grunts, starting to walk out of the library, “Maybe you want me to fail the test.”

“Why would I ever want that?” Sam asks, puzzled, “I will be copying from you tomorrow. If you fail the test, I fail the test.”

Blaine frowns, stopping in the middle of the room to turn and look at her disapprovingly. “How did the Hat even sort you into Gryffindor?”

“I constantly ask myself the same question,” she says, nodding.

He groans and decides not to investigate the matter any further. Before Madam Pillsbury can scold them for making too much noise and disturbing the others, he walks out of the library, Sam still following him. “Where is he?”

“In his bedroom.”

“And how do _you_ know he’s acting weird, then?”

“I was in his bedroom before.”

Blaine’s body temperature drops in a second and then rises with the fury of a volcano. Once again he stops halfway through a step and turns to look at her. “And what were you doing there?”

Sam blushes and looks away. “Nothing,” she says, and Blaine burns with jealousy. He can’t say anything, though. No one knows about… whatever this weird thing between Mad and him is. No one knows about the sneaking out together for a run to Hogsmeade, no one knows about the hiding out in the Room of Requirement, no one knows about Maddox silently slipping underneath the covers to just sleep next to him when he thinks he’s already asleep, no one knows about Blaine just marching to Mad’s bedroom when he can’t take it enough.

No one knows about that and no one ever will. Not even Sam. So he swallows down whatever upsets him about the thought of her spending time with Maddox in his bedroom, and just keeps walking. “Alright, I’ll go talk to him,” he says, “Don’t worry.”

Sam sighs, relieved. Blaine hopes she’ll let him go alone and as a matter of fact she does. As he climbs the moving stairs, jumping over most of the tricks the staircase usually has in hold for the students, he wonders what Sam knows, or what has she guessed, about them. And that goes for everybody else, actually, because it seems that whenever Maddox is doing something silly, or straight out stupid, or possibly even dangerous, Blaine’s the one everybody runs to. Why do they do it, what do they want, what do they know instinctively that he doesn’t know yet?

When he gets to Maddox’s room he hesitates for a second before walking in. If he was a smart person, the wise hero everybody thinks he’s going to become if he keeps on this path of rectitude and talented application of good magic, he would stop right here. He would not let himself get involved. He would call Maddox out in a public place, the hallways, the Great Hall, the gardens, wherever, and he’d challenge him. He’d stop on this run towards the darkness that he found himself on, he’d win, he’d turn him back towards a normal life of study and work, and he’d be remembered forever like the wizard who turned the potentially most destructive threat the wizarding world ever risked to face into something good.

But he doesn’t want to do that. He only wants to make sure Maddox is alright. Whatever he does with his magic, his talent, his wits, that’s alright with him.

And that makes _him_ the most dangerous threat to the wizarding world, not Maddox. Maddox is just the asteroid on a collision path towards the Earth. He is the wizard who could but refuses to stop it.

He takes a deep sigh and decides now’s not the time to dwell too much on this, though. He will have time in the future to think on this. Choose something for himself. Perhaps choose something for Maddox, too. But for now, Sam was worried and he needs to see what’s going on.

So he opens the door and enters the room without knocking.

Inside he finds a sight that’s unusual, to say the least, and worrying, to be perfectly honest. Maddox never studies from textbooks, he usually just flips through them with a bored-out-of-his-mind face and then throws them behind his back or puts them aside and proceeds to create new spells and potions he designs himself to achieve the same result without, putting it in his own words, “having to copy someone else’s work”. It is useless to make him notice that using the same spell as everybody else to, say, make something float in the air is like using the same word as everybody else to indicate a toad. If he wasn’t afraid no one would understand him, Maddox would probably create his own language too. 

And yet there he is, sitting cross-legged on the floor, studying intently from a book Blaine can’t see the cover of.

“Hey,” he says, walking in, “Can I sit with you for a while?”

Maddox doesn’t remove his eyes from the text he’s reading so carefully, but he smiles. “Ah, Blaine. Just the person I wanted to see.”

Blaine frowns, sitting on the floor next to him. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Mh?” Maddox finally turns to look at him and blinks slowly a couple of times. “Nothing. I just want to see you often.”

Blaine can’t help but blush as he looks away. Sometimes he wonders if Maddox has any real knowledge of the weight of the things he says.

“Yes, of course,” he mutters, shaking his head, “Sam sent me here, anyway.”

“How come?”

“She was worried about you.”

“Don’t tell me she was disappointed,” he puts down the book, a horrified look on his face, “I was a bit distracted but I thought my performance was pretty good.”

“I don’t want to know anything about that.”

Maddox grins. “Don’t you?”

“Absolutely not,” Blaine insists, “And just so you know, she had nothing at all to say about your _performance_. She just said you were acting weird. And now that I’m here I can confirm it.”

“I’m just studying,” Maddox shrugs.

“You’re studying _from a book_ ,” Blaine frowns, “What book is it?” he asks as he tries to take a look at the cover.

Maddox picks the book up from the floor and swiftly moves it out of sight without blatantly hiding it. That makes an alarm ring in Blaine’s brain, and suddenly he’s more interested in this book than he was before, when he was using it just to move Maddox’s attention from Sam back to him.

“Nothing much,” Maddox says dismissively, “Just a little something I picked up in the library.”

Blaine tries to catch another glimpse at the book. He can’t see the title but the design of the cover is pretty interesting. Faded black leather with dark purple decoration and the title written in white on the front, all the letters wrinkled, cracked and missing more than a few serifs.

“I don’t remember ever seeing that book,” he says, “Where exactly did you pick it up from, which shelf?”

“Not one you would usually take a book off.”

Blaine freezes for a second. He knows exactly what these words mean.

“The Restricted Section,” he utters in disbelief, “What is it, Maddox?” he stands on his knees, trying to reach past Maddox’s body to catch the book. Maddox gets up too, pushing the book behind his back. Then he stares at him for a second and Blaine can see in his eyes that he has just realized that he tried to hide something from him, as though he felt guilty or ashamed about it. And just when Maddox realizes that, he frowns and pushes the book in Blaine’s hand, fighting shame and fear.

“This,” he says, “It’s very interesting.”

It’s _Secrets of the Dark Arts_. Blaine holds it in up in his hands, feeling its weight, the shape of it against his palms. This is a book he knows much about and has never seen. And it’s definitely a book Maddox shouldn’t be reading.

“I thought professor Sylvester had had it removed from the library...” he murmurs softly, turning the book in his hands and passing a finger against the letters engraved in its back.

“I bet she thought that too,” Maddox comments. 

Blaine looks up at him and finds him looking elsewhere. That makes him frown in anger. “You know you did something wrong taking this book. I _know_ you know.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, _this_ is bullshit. You can’t even look at me!”

“That’s ‘cause you know what happens when I look at you for much too long,” Maddox says with a sly grin. And usually Blaine would blush again, but he’s not going to let these stupid games throw him off.

“Don’t even try that,” he growls, “I’m not an idiot. You can’t look at me because you _know_ you shouldn’t have taken this book. So why did you do it?”

“I was curious, okay?” Maddox frowns. Then he grunts and sits back down on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest. “I always manage to do things my way. There isn’t one single spell they taught me here the effects of which I haven’t been able to replicate with a different spell of my making. But even though I’ve been trying for months I can’t seem to manage with this one.”

“And what is it?” Blaine presses him worriedly, “What is it, that you had to find it in such a book?”

Maddox looks at him for a second in perfect silence and seems to consider whether to tell him or not. He finally decides to speak, but once again he turns away from him as he does it. “Horcruxes,” he finally says, “I want to create one.”

“What?” Blaine backs away, horrified. He always knew Maddox liked to dwell into the Dark Arts, they fascinate him like all forbidden things fascinate him, and Blaine always looked indulgently at the fact because it’s pretty normal to be fascinated by forbidden things – he’s no exception to this and why should Maddox be? But this is a whole different level of forbidden. This is unnatural. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Maddox shrugs, “What’s so bad about it? If you think on it, really, it’s nice. You leave something of yours behind. A piece of your soul in an object. It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Doesn’t hurt anyone?” Blaine raises his voice, “You have to kill someone to make it happen! You have to break your soul to get a piece to put anywhere!”

“That’s why I want to find a different way!” Maddox frowns, probably annoyed at the fact that Blaine can’t understand him, like he always gets whenever they fight, “I’m not interested in killing people. Just in creating an Horcrux. I will find another way to do it, I will make my own spell, like I always do.”

“You can’t, that’s why you took the book!” Blaine stands up and starts pacing the room, nervously. This is far more than something he would be able to fight on his own – he knows that. He should report him. Go to professor Sylvester’s office and tell her everything. But his legs won’t move in any other direction that isn’t Maddox, so it’s him he walks up towards. “Why?” he asks, voice vibrant with anger, “Why would you want to create a Horcrux, what do you need it for?”

“No specific reason,” Maddox frowns, refusing to back away, “I just want to.”

“Stop bullshitting me!” Blaine raises his voice and his hands too, closing them around the half-open collar of his uniform’s shirt and shaking him a little, “You never do anything just because you want to.”

“Everything I do I do because I want to do it!”

“Everything you do you do because you want to obtain something from it!” Blaine insists and finally lets him go, but does it so vehemently that Maddox ends up tripping backward and falling in a sitting position on the edge of the bed, “Tell me!” he says, pointing his index finger against his chest, “Tell me why you want to do it!”

“Because you’re gonna kill me, at some point, and I have to be prepared!” Maddox finally blurts out, and as he listens to the words rolling out his mouth Blaine stops breathing for a moment, stops thinking, stops _existing_ , and Maddox’s eyes fill with guilt and panic, and Blaine wants to disappear.

Then the moment passes, Blaine’s heart starts beating again, and he breathes. “…that’s nonsense,” he says softly, “Why would you say that?” But he knows why. And he’s always known. He’s been thinking about it – where else can this rivalry lead them, if not on the ground where they’re going to challenge each other for one last grand battle?

Maddox looks down, and he looks sadder than he ever did. Blaine’s always found it odd, how cheerful Maddox was to be a Slytherin. Perhaps that was the whole point – he wasn’t. That was a mask he put on to deal with him. Perhaps he’s just grim like all the others from his house are.

“There’s a prophecy,” he says in the lowest voice Blaine has ever heard him use, “I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Where,” Blaine stutters, “How.”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s all that matters!”

“All that matters is what it says.” Maddox looks back up at him, and there’s only sadness in his dark eyes. “Believe me, I didn’t want to believe it. But it’s us. It’s about us.”

Blaine shakes his head and walks up to him, dropping on his knees. Maddox is still sitting on the bed and looks down at him, his features tense, his skin turning an unhealthy shade of pale pink. “Tell me what it says.”

Maddox sighs and half-closes his eyes, whispering the words as though he didn’t need to make any effort to remember them. As though they were engraved on his soul. “The abandoned child will create new magic, and it will be his undoing. The golden child will challenge him, and that will be his undoing. And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.”

Blaine swallows, his fingers clutching around the fabric of Maddox’s pants. “You can’t know it’s about us,” he tries weakly, but Maddox can, of course, because he knows too. He can feel it. The abandoned child who creates his own magic. Maddox never knew his parents and has lived in Hogwarts for as long as he can remember. The golden child who will challenge him, who could it be if not him, the one everyone keeps pushing the future of the wizarding world upon? 

So that’s the bond tying them together. That’s what connects them. The reason why Blaine keeps chasing Maddox and Maddox keeps coming back to him.

They must die at the end of one another. For neither of them can live while the other survives.

“I’m not going to do it,” Blaine shakes his head, clinging to him, “Do you hear me? You can forget about this book. You can forget about Horcruxes. You won’t need them, because I’m not going to kill you. Ever.”

“Blaine--” Maddox reaches out to him and strokes his cheekbone with his fingertips. “Come on. Be honest with me. I don’t need a prophecy to know someday you’re gonna kill me.”

“But why?!” Blaine stands up and then leans into him, holding his face in his hands roughly, “Why would I want to do it? I-- I care about you!”

Maddox smiles gently. That’s more like the Maddox he knows. The one whose honesty and sincerity make him question why would the Hat sort him into Slytherin House. “I know you do. But I’m not gonna stop. I will keep making my magic and I will keep pushing wizardry forward, beyond its limits, no matter where this leads me. And you...” he smiles again, “You’re a hero at heart, Blaine Anderson. At some point, I will become a problem. And you will solve me the only way you will be able to do it.”

“Then you must stop,” Blaine insists, his hands moving to Maddox’s shoulders, squeezing them, “You must stop now. If you stop you won’t become a threat, and I--” he’s cut off abruptly by Maddox’s lips pressed hard against his own.

He’s lost count of how many times they’ve kissed now. It happens randomly, there’s never a way to predict it. And it’s ironic the only prophecy they have about themselves right now speaks of how they’re going to die, but not of the chance they have to ever fall for one another.

“Can’t happen, Anderson,” Maddox smiles again against his lips, and it’s a resigned smile, soft and painful, “I can’t push my life in any other direction. I want to change this world. I want to shake its foundations. That’s the reason I was born. If I stop now, it will be like having been born for no reason at all, and I couldn’t stand it.”

“I could give you a new reason to live,” Blaine presses his face against Maddox’s, squeezing his eyes shut, inhaling his scent. He smells of ancient books, spices, poisonous herbs and powerful magic. “We could work together. We can change the world together without breaking it.”

“Nothing can truly change if you don’t damage it first,” Maddox shakes his head slowly. “Hey,” he adds, brushing his lips against Blaine’s in another light kiss, “You remember what I told you that time we went to the Dungeon to fight that Peruvian Vipertooth?”

Blaine bites at his bottom teeth and shakes his head no. He hates having to speak about these things. He hates himself for wanting to kiss him so badly right now, despite what they’re talking about.

Maddox chuckles and kisses him again as though he read him in backlighting. “I told you I needed you to be my hero. To take care of me when I mess up too badly.”

“How do you even remember that, you were poisoned and hurt...”

“I remember everything I ever said to you,” Maddox rests his forehead against Blaine’s, sighing, “You’re the only thing I ever did just because I wanted and not because I wanted to obtain something from it. So you must believe me when I tell you this. I know where my path is leading me. And I know where yours is taking you. And I expect you to be the one who will challenge me. And if I ever have to die, I expect you to be the one killing me.”

Blaine bites at his bottom lip too hard, and the gesture draws a whimper and a tear out of him. “Stop saying that. I will never do it.”

“You will,” Maddox kisses him once more, forcing him to let his lip go, “And it will be okay. But in the meantime I must prepare. Ours will be an honest fight, future Head of Gryffindor House. And I will try my best to be the one who’ll kill you.” He grins, and then leaves a little bite on his chin. “So you better do the same.”

Blaine finally opens his eyes and watches him through a veil of uncried tears. He should be angry at him. Furious, even. He should hit him, curse him, or at the very least leave this bedroom. Instead, he sits on his lap, straddling him awkwardly, uncomfortably, and then shifting on top of him to get more comfortable as Maddox’s hands land on his hips, welcoming him closer.

“Stop speaking about death,” Blaine whispers on his lips, “I’m fed up with it.” He closes his eyes again and this time it’s him who kisses Maddox first. “If what you say is true, I want at least one good thing to remember you by,” he whispers.

Needless to say, Maddox understands what it is without needing any further clarification.


End file.
